A Soc's Point of View
by Wrandom Writer
Summary: I knew that when you were drunk,things didn't always go so well.Maybe you'd get in a fight,say some things to your broad that shouldn't have been said,stuff like that.You wake up,hungover and move on.But this time,I wouldn't be able to wake up at all.


**In seventh grade Language Arts, one of the books we read as a class was "The Outsiders". One of the projects we could do after we finished reading the book was something called, "A Soc's Point of View." Uhm. . . yeah. So this is pretty self explanatory. **

**Some minor revisions were done in the begining, a bit more-than-minor ones were done towards the end, mainly the last five or so paragraphes. Please excuse any minor typo's and/or mistakes (though I don't mind if you want to point them out to me in a review.)**

**Enjoy.**

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The Last Night

"Yee haw!" I yelled as the mustang raced down the street. The gang and I were out for a midnight drive, hootin' and hollerin' at nothing inparticular. We had been at a Beer Blast at Billy Cand's place, having a good ol' time until Billy's old man showed up. We peeled out of there so fast, our tires almost turned to mush.

I knew that we shouldn't be behind the wheel this wasted, but I didn't care, and neither did my alcohol-jolly buds. I was chugging a flat bottle of booze when Randy elbowed me in the ribs and pointed to a dimly-lit park. Two puny Greasers were standing near a fountain that was squirting out smooth streams of water.

Carl made two more slow 360's around the park, and we all exchanged sly glances that said the same thing: "Let's go pick us a fight!"

The rumble of the engine died down as Carl stopped the mustang by the park. We staggered out of the car and made our way toward the two Greasers. They stood ready to brawl. I, myself, tried to look tuff, but I couldn't help tripping over my own feet. The rest of my gang bumped into me a couple of times, too.

The two Greasers looked familiar to me. One was mighty short with black hair that fell in his face. His expression looked like he was just about ready to murder someone, but he didn't scare me. I recognized him as the scrawny Greaser I jumped a few months back.

I had a harder time placing the second Greaser. He was tall with rusty-red hair and green eyes. He had a nasty look painted on his face. Finally, my boozed up mind made the connection.

"Hey, whattaya know?" I slurred. "Here's the little Greasers that picked up our girls. Hey Greasers," I taunted.

"You're outta your territory," the dark-haired Greaser growled. "You'd better watch it."

"Nup, pal, you're the ones that better watch it. Next time you want a broad, go pick up your own kind— dirt!" I added. I smiled triumphantly as I saw the tall one set his jaw. He was getting angrier by the second. I decided to add to my nicely burning fire.

"You know what a Greaser is?" I asked both my crew and the Greasers. "White trash with long hair!" I cackled as I saw their faces twist in fury.

Unexpectedly, the tall one retorted, "You know what a Soc is? White trash with Mustangs and madras!" A glob of spit flew from his mouth and splattered against the grass in front of me. I was overcome with anger and annoyance, but I didn't let it show. Instead, I composed my face into a wry smile and spoke calmly, "You could use a bath, Greaser. And a good workin' over. We've got all night to do it. Hey David, give the kid a bath."

Dave and Ronald charged the Greaser and grabbed his arms. He was dragged across the sleek grass, kicking and cursing. The fountain water splashed as the pathetic piece of garbage tried to fight back.

Randy and Carl went after the small one and pushed him to the ground with ease. After giving him a few good kicks, sure that he would stay down, they joined Dave and Ron.

"Well, don't ya stand there!" Dave yelled. "Come help us out, here!"

I half ran and half stumbled over the damp grass to the fountain. Cool splashes of water met my face as I dunked my hands into the frigid water and felt for the Greaser's shoulders and head. When my fingertips brushed the fabric of his shirt, I gripped his shoulders and held him down. _I'll just keep him under for another minute, _I thought, icy water soaking into my clothing as the kid thrashed.

After all, he did deserve it. What, with him hangin' around Cherry, that no good, lousy Greaser!

A sudden, burning rage engulfed my body. I shoved Dave and Ron out of the way, and stood over the Greaser. My fingers moved from his shoulders to his neck and curled as I held him down with every ounce of strength in my being.

Before I knew what was happening, I was knocked off balance and thrown to the ground. The grass met the back of my head with a painful _thud_, and something hard knocked my breath from my lungs. Though I was disoriented, and it was dark, I could still make out the black hair of the other greaser as he sat on top of me.

I started to yell, but my voice never made it out of my throat before an unbearable, burning pain took over my stomach. The pressure of the Greaser was lifted as he stood. Before he turned to the fountain, I saw that a switch with a glistening, red blade was grasped tightly in his hand.

I doubled up and tried to hold in the blood that was now pouring from my body. It did no good, as the warm liquid oozed around my hands. I could feel the blood pulse beneath my palm, my ears ringing with the sound of my heartbeat slowly fading.

I was vaguely aware of the screech of the Mustang's tires in the distance as I drew my last, shuddering breath.

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**Since this was written as an assignment with no intentions of being on Fanfictions, I didn't really post this for reviews, more for someone to read if they wanted to. Still, a review is always appreciated. **

**(If you would like to read something that I DID write for fanfiction and for reviews, just check out my profile. :p)**


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